


Engine Grease

by Masterkitty343



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Cumshot, Dean Gives Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, Drinking, F/M, Impala Sex, Kinky, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Sandwiches, Smut, use a condom kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 14:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6808198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masterkitty343/pseuds/Masterkitty343
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Dean blow off a little steam with some smutty smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Engine Grease

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first posted fic so be nice! Also let me know what you think and if I should write more!  
> xx

As you step out into the garage, beer and sandwich in hand, your ears are assailed by what sounds like two cats mating. Looking around, you locate the source of the sound. Two big black boots peek out from beneath the hood of the ’67 Chevy Impala in which you have spent so much time over the last few days.

One of the booted feet taps along to the strains of Guns N Roses as the man connected to it makes his attempt at singing along. You grin as the slightly off key yelling that Dean thinks passes for singing reaches a peak.

Shaking your head, you walk over to stand in front of the car. Dean is lying on an old skateboard; the only thing in the garage that could double as a mechanic’s roller. You put your own booted foot on the end closest to you, just between his thighs and pull. Dean jumps with shock, hitting his head on the underside of the car.

“Dammit, Y/N,” he grunts, pulling himself out from under the car and looking at your giggling face. “This had better be good.”

You lean closer to him, dangling the beer in front of his face. “Is this good enough for you?” you ask. He snatches the beer from your hand, eyeing you suspiciously.

“That sandwich better be for me too,” he says gruffly, pulling himself to his feet.

“No one else wants this much hot sauce and jalapeños on one sandwich,” you grin, walking towards the old pullout couch near the door. Dean follows and you sit together, looking out the open roller door at the fields of nothingness as far as the eye could see.

You sit together for a bit, drinking beer and joshing about your most recent hunt. You’d hunted with the Winchesters before, a long time ago, but you’d needed Sam’s unique skills for this particular monster. Having Dean along too was just an added bonus.

Like most women, you had fallen for Dean’s charms the moment you met him. His confidence, his smile and those eyes, God those eyes, all made you melt and had kept you melting ever since. 

You knew he felt the same. There had been a few instances in the past, nights that you would never forget, that could have made things awkward. But your relationship with Dean was a lot simpler than that. You both enjoyed the simple things; beers, sandwiches, chatting under the setting sun. And sex. Definitely sex. And definitely with each other.

Which was why, after Dean had polished off his sandwich and started on his third beer, you noticed his hand making its way up your thigh. This was normal. The jolt of electricity you felt between your legs every time he touched you was nothing new. The grin on his face as he leant closer to start kissing your neck was pretty standard.

But you didn’t want normal today.

Which is why you moved away from him, standing up from the couch and, motioning for him to follow, walking towards the Chevy. Dean follows you with one of those amazing smiles lighting up his face. But when you walked past the door and around to the front he got confused.

Wiggling yourself onto the front of the car, you pull Dean in between your open thighs. His hands find their way to your hips and he pulls himself closer. Looking down at you through those eyelashes he moves to kiss you. 

You loved his kisses. They were soft and warm, gentle, while also managing to make you feel wanted. You throw your arms around his neck to pull him closer while opening your mouth to his probing tongue. His rough hands knead into your hips, rocking you onto him, back and forth. You can feel his rock hard erection through his jeans and move yourself against it, bringing yourself pleasure along with it.

Dean breaks the kiss for only a moment to pull off your shirt, revealing your heaving chest, barely contained by a probably impractical lace bra. He moans, pushing your breasts together with his hands so that he can burrow his face between them.

You grab his hair, twining the strands between your fingers. You pull slightly, eliciting a muffled moan from the man nuzzling your chest.

Dean moves his hands slowly up your body, scooping a finger into your bra and pulling at your nipple. It’s already hard and seeing it so makes Dean groan. Taking it between his fingers, Dean moves his kisses up your chest and over your collarbone to the soft spot beneath your jaw. He nips at your throat and begins rolling your hard nipple between his fingers. You look down at his hand, noticing that he hasn’t taken the time to wipe the engine grease off his hands. The black smudges all over your bra and breasts make you giggle and Dean moves away from your throat to look up at you.

“What’s so funny?” he asks you threateningly. Following your eyes he notices the damage he’s done and yelps. “Shit, y/n! Sorry!”

“It’s all good,” you say, warmly. A thought hits you. “You’ll just have to come with me to buy a new one.” You laugh, while also salivating at the idea of Dean telling you what to wear.

Dean grins, his train of thought following the same tracks as yours. “Well in that case,” he murmurs, “we won’t have to be too careful with this one then.”

With one swift motion, Dean uses his rough, greasy hands to rip the soft lace cups of your bra open, setting your breasts free. The stitching is still in place, barely holding its precious cargo aloft. 

Grabbing your left breast in his hand, Dean moves his mouth down to the right, taking your nipple in his mouth. Stifling a moan, you react by rocking your hips into Dean’s; feeling the hardness behind those jeans.

Removing his free hand from your hip, Dean pops open the single button on your jeans and hastily unzips them. You raise your hips slightly, helping him remove your jeans. There’s black streaks of grease all over them, but you fail to notice, too caught up in the feeling of Dean’s hot, wet mouth on your nipple.

Without warning, Dean grabs your hips in both hands and flips you over so you’re face down on the hood of the Impala. Your hard nipples press against the hot metal, your ass in the air. You can tell that Dean is admiring the view because a soft “God damn” slides from his lips, barely audible. You move your head to look back at him, shaking your hips enticingly. 

“You like seeing me face down on your baby?” You ask, biting your lip in a way that you know drives Dean insane. “You want to fuck me like this?”

Running his hands through his hair, dean groans. “Fuck, y/n, what are you doing to me?” He moves forward, pressing his fingers into the damp patch forming in your panties. You bite your lip, fingers scratching at the hood in an attempt to find leverage. 

Pressing his groin against you, Dean runs his fingers along your back. He smirks at the line of grease he leaves and quickly steps back to take off his jeans.

“I could fuck you like this, y/n,” he says. “But I think I might have a little fun before I do.”

You look back at him, confused. In one swift motion, Dean pulls down your panties and pushes your legs further apart. He kneels behind you, face level with your now exposed pussy. He licks his lips at the sight of you and you shudder as you feel his hot breath. Cleaning his greasy fingers on his nearby shirt, Dean starts kissing your inner thigh. As he gets closer and closer to your sweet spot, you start to shiver. 

Slowly, you feel Dean’s fingers move your lower lips apart, exposing all of you to him. He begins to flick his tongue against your wetness, touching you just enough to make you moan. He moves his tongue into your opening and you buck against the car’s hood. Dean continues to move his tongue as you feel the heat in your belly begin to expand. His fingers find their way to your clit and you cry out, pushing your hips back into Dean’s face. With his free hand, Dean steadies you, knowing that the way he was making you feel also made you weak at the knees.

The slow, steady circles Dean’s finger is making against your clit matches the slow, steady build of heat inside you. When Dean speeds up, you feel yourself get closer and closer to the edge you so want to toss yourself from. The pace quickens and you writhe on the hood, the moans escaping from your lips becoming groans, then cries, then one long stream of colourful swearing that makes Dean increase his speed one last time before you come on his lips, tongue and fingers, crying his name.

Holding your waist so you don’t fall, Dean stands while wiping his glistening lips on his forearm. You breath heavily, slowly coming down from your high..

“I believe you said something about fucking you?” Dean asks. He grabs his hard cock in one hand, guiding it to its place just outside your entrance. “Is that still on the table?”

“Oh fuck yes,” you moan, steadying yourself against the Impala in readiness. 

In one slow movement Dean pushes himself into you, your pussy still slick and open from his tongue. He barely gives you time to adjust to your size before he begins thrusting into you. He’s so big it’s almost painful, but you quickly become accustomed to his pace and push your hips back to greet his.

The slapping sound of your ass against his crotch is loud. So loud you’re almost worried that someone might hear. Almost. You’re a little too preoccupied to care.

Dean moves one hand from your hip to your head, gently pushing your cheek into the hot metal. You groan as he takes you. You want nothing more than to please him, to have him do with you what he will. He fucks you, hard, and you feel a slow ebbing heat spreading through you.

“Do you think you can come again, baby?” Dean huffs, pressing himself deeper and deeper inside you. “I want to feel you come all over my cock.”

You cry out as he hits the spot inside you that makes you turn to jelly. Taking that as a yes, Dean’s cock keeps hitting that spot over and over again. You can feel the pleasure inside you building like a wave, taking you under as it crashes over you. Your pussy clenches around Dean’s hard cock and you cry out, coming for a second time that evening. 

“So fucking hot,” Dean groans as he watches you lose yourself beneath him. He quickly turns you over, taking himself out of you and into his own hands. With a few quick pumps he reaches his own peak, his hot, white seed meeting the black engine grease on your belly in a Jackson Pollock style pattern. 

Returning to the land of the coherent living, you look down at Dean. He locks eyes with you, a sheepish expression on his face. You look at your belly and gasp in mock horror.

“Dean Winchester!” you cry. “Just look at the mess you’ve made!”

Dean plays along, looking at the floor of the garage and scuffing his foot timidly. “I’m sorry, y/n,” he says. “I’ll clean it, I promise.”

“You’d better!” you say, standing up from the hood. You quickly toss Dean’s used shirt over your head, kicking Dean’s jeans out of the way. “Last one to the shower’s a rotten egg!”

You zip out of the garage, Dean chuckling behind you. If the way lunch had turned out was any indication, you were in for a very, very long night.


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After proofreading the first chapter for me, my boyfriend's first question was "where's Sam during all of this?" So I decided to show you.

"Breaking the law, breaking the law," Rob Halford sings, the accompanying guitars strumming along noisily. Sam bops his head to rhythm coming through his headphones as he makes his way into the kitchen. He's been hard at research all day and feels like he deserves a reward. 

Opening the fridge, Sam makes note of the missing beer from the bottom shelf. He shakes his head, knowing he'd have to go into town if he wanted to have his well deserved drink. 

Reaching instead for the ham and mustard, Sam decides a victory sandwich is in order and sets about organising the ingredients. 

Unbeknownst to him, two figures can be seen rutting on top of a black muscle car through the kitchen window. Their motions are repetitive, but ultimately unnoticeable. 

Sam continues to shuffle-dance while making his sandwich, silently cursing whomever took the last of the jalapeños. 

As he sits down to enjoy his creation, there's a break in the music long enough for Sam to hear the clang of a screen door closing. Taking a headphone out of his ear, Sam hears footsteps thundering up the stars.

"Dean is that you?" he calls out. When there's no response he shrugs, putting the headphone back in. Dean's probably just gone to take a shower. Working on the impala is a messy job and after all, engine grease has a way of finding itself in the most unusual of places.


End file.
